That Time My Kid Missed A Month Of School

Welcome back to those of you who probably didn't enthusiastically didn't vote for Trump. Also, I started this post a while back, but didn't finish it thanks to my much needed Trump rant. Anyway. . .

As I type, Ironflower is lolling on the couch on a Wednesday afternoon.

Again.

According to the letter I got about my older children's poor attendance records (which I got after Lovebug reached his 7th absence due to a 4 day fever/upper respiratory infection week before last), this marks Ironflower's 21st absence this year.

She'd be on her 22nd, but I made her go to school Monday (despite feeling very crappy, which made sense because by that afternoon she was vomiting and had a fever) and then get sent to the nurse just to prove that I'm not just letting her play truant because I'm too lazy to make her go to school.

I think she's had 5 stomach viri* this school year, including one which then turned into an upper respiratory infection which then turned into pneumonia that required 2 rounds of antibiotics. Which explains why she's missed the equivalent of a month of school, but not what the hell happened to her immune system. She's 12, not 2.

Though, to be perfectly honest, if puberty continues just like this - many illnesses, fierce independence and an unfailingly sarcastic wit, I will consider myself blessed. (I'm not sure the ever vomiting Ironflower would agree).

The most worrisome part of this whole missed a month of school thing is that she's only screwed up one test because of it.

Oh, and that it's quite possible the truancy officer is going to visit us. Or something. I don't quite know how it works in the 'burbs.

I think this must be karma. I remember judging parents whose kids missed a lot of school back in my teaching days, wondering why they didn't see the importance of daily attendance. Of course, if Ironflower is any indication, daily attendance isn't as important as I thought.

I'm just kidding, people ready to alert the middle school administration about my laissez-faire attitude.


*Or viruses, if you didn't sit through 3 years of Latin in junior high.

Better, Relatively Speaking

So, I got this cold last week. No big deal, right? It's just a cold. I make sure to bring tissues with me everywhere. I even skip the gym on Thursday, to let my body rest. Not that I actually rest, but still.  And then. . .Saturday I wake up with sinus pain and an ear ache and a fever.

As if the virus was sending me a message. . ."Bitch, you may be able to ignore a cold, but you can't ignore this!"  I also think I heard an evil, cackling laugh whenever I tried to get off the couch, but they have been from all the decongestants I was taking. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that this virus is evil and I'm pretty sure it tried to kill me.

It's now Wednesday night - I'm finally starting to feel better, if by better you mean not on the verge of tears from pain and exhaustion.

This is how excited I am about being coherent enough to post. 

Really, I shouldn't be surprised. There I was, being all good about exercising and posting and keeping up with laundry and BAM. Though I have caught up on every reality TV show I'm vaguely interested in, plus watched every episode of American Ninja Warrior.  

American Ninja Warrior is my new favorite sport. Although I'd probably have more luck playing football than being a Ninja Warrior. 

I may not truly be coherent enough to post.